Why My Domineering Prince Regretted Filing for Divorce?

The two prison guards were stunned and looked behind him, only to laugh awkwardly twice.

Pei Xingyuan also laughed.

There was no need to worry about him escaping because accompanying the carriage was a squad of guards, each strong and sturdy, with curved blades at their waists, solemn expressions, all ordered to escort him. After hearing his words, their gazes became sharp, afraid that if he made a wrong move now, these men would immediately pounce.

In this situation, even contemplating escape would be improper.

Not only improper, it would be an admission of guilt, solidifying the accusation. If he ran, their Pei Family would truly face eternal damnation.

Seeing the guards tense, Pei Xingyuan laughed again, "I am joking with you all."

The two prison guards chuckled in return, "We know Lord Pei loves to joke. We’ll listen to your jokes again when you return."

Pei Xingyuan smiled and replied, "How do you know I will return?"

These words once again stunned the two, and even the guards furrowed their brows, feeling that this man was too audacious, questioning if his remarks were not a disrespect to the Emperor, but rather a challenge to them.

But the two prison guards understood the subtleties of human nature, immediately regaining composure and smiling, "Indeed, this time Lord Pei may clear his name, and resume his official position."

The guards finally softened their expressions.

Pei Xingyuan said nothing more, simply smiled and patted them on the shoulders, "These days, you’ve worked hard."

Having said that, he turned and boarded the carriage. The guards and escorting prison guards verified the document and sealed it. Soon, the carriage left the cold, desolate, bone-chilling gate of the prison, watched by the two guards until its shadow disappeared from view. They sighed in relief, walking inside and whispering to each other.

One said, "Do you think he will return?"

The other replied, "Whether back or not doesn’t matter. If he returns and someone greases our palms, we’ll serve him well—profiting once more; if not—"

"If not, then what?"

"Good or bad, that’s just his fate."

The person sighed deeply.

If Pei Xingyuan was fortunate, perhaps he could truly clear his name this time, restore his position, becoming once again the proud, highly-ranked Lord Pei, naturally he wouldn’t return to the Ministry of Justice Prison; if misfortune struck, then he was headed towards the Yellow Springs road.

Both sighed and shook their heads, slowly closing the iron gate of the prison.

At this time, sunlight was stronger than before.

But after all, it was winter; even with sunlight, even with warmth, the chill lingered through the streets and alleys, with the entire Changan city like a pot covered in snowflakes, filled with bustling people chasing fame and fortune, resembling ants crawling unconsciously among the flowers, struggling yet small.

Shang Ruyi observed with this perspective, watching the pedestrians in the street.

Early morning, Yu Wenye took her out of the palace as promised yesterday. As there was no curfew last night, they passed many places still lit with lanterns, some riddles unguessed through the night hanging beneath, surrounded by pondering people; others who drank through the night staggered, yet to sober up, contrasting past Changan with new scenes.

Then, they arrived at a street-side tavern on Vermilion Bird Street.

Inside hosted those who drank all night, the hall yet to be tidied, with alcohol aroma and drunken stench lingering in the cold air. Shang Ruyi entered, holding her nose against the smell, frowning, "How stinky."

The attendant, with red eyes, lazily smiled and said, "Bear with it, esteemed guests."

Shang Ruyi found it smelly, but didn’t demand anything, understanding that such early tavern visits were unusual. Yu Wenye scanned the surroundings, "Take us to the second floor, find a clean room, and bring us your best wine and dishes. Quick action, generous reward."

The attendant, exhausted from the busy Lantern Festival night, originally sleepy to standing upright, perked up at the sight of well-dressed guests and the word "reward," eyes lighting up in smiles, "Please, both of you, please!"

Saying this, he led them to the second floor.

The guards accompanying them from the palace remained at the tavern’s entrance, fortunate that few pedestrians noticed them.

Arrived upstairs, the attendant led them to a refined room, cleaner and quieter than surroundings; as Shang Ruyi disliked the smell, he offered tea, even lit incense for her, then exited briefly, loud in ordering kitchen preparations.

Inside the room, Yu Wenye sat down, sipping tea.

Shang Ruyi walked to the window, pushing it open.

A gust of cold wind "whooshed" in, dispersing the smoke from the incense burner immediately. Standing by the window, she looked down the long street, extending her view to afar.

Yu Wenye stated, "It’s still early."

Shang Ruyi turned to him, "Didn’t you say they would send the person to the palace early from the Ministry of Justice?"

Yu Wenye replied, "He’s spent long in prison, though cared for, certainly unlike normal. But appearing before the Emperor requires tidiness, first cleaning and changing, confirming identity, verifying documents, it takes a while to come from the prison."

"Oh."

"Alright, cold by the window, have some hot tea first."

Shang Ruyi nodded, fearing to miss anything, didn’t close the window. Ready to return, she noticed opposite the street, some taverns’ attendants snuffing night’s lanterns, bowing to staggering patrons; but second floors appeared quieter, several rooms with open windows empty, airing out; yet some windows partially ajar, silhouettes of people still drinking, shadows flickering like puppet shows.

In one room, a slightly familiar figure stood behind a slightly opened window.

Shang Ruyi, "Hmm?"